


Robin Who?

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mild Language, Some Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following three days of steadfast avoidance, Emma finally summoned the courage to face Regina after the catastrophe that took place in the diner when she returned from the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robin Who?

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly known as No More Beards.
> 
> This is more Pre-SQ, but it involves a lot of flirting and fluff on their part, and it ends in them dating so... Thought I should warn everyone who might be expecting something more.

Following three days of steadfast avoidance, Emma finally summoned the courage to face Regina after the catastrophe that took place in the diner when she returned from the past. She did nothing wrong and while she didn’t regret saving Marian from being executed, she could acknowledge the fact that she hurt the brunette regardless of the intent behind her actions. She couldn’t—no; she wouldn’t allow this to ruin all the work they had put in to establishing a friendship, no matter how tentative and awkward said friendship was.

As she knocked on the door to 108 Mifflin Street, she prepared herself for when Regina answered and as the door opened, her hand met solid wood when the brunette immediately tried to slam it shut on her. “We need to talk about this,” she insisted before the yelling started. She ignored the sneer she received, using her superior physical strength to push open the door and enter the house.

“Get out,” Regina growled.

Emma shook her head and removed her jacket, eyes never straying from the volatile woman as she hung it up. “I’m not leaving until we resolve this and don’t even think about using magic on me because I _will_ use our son,” she said. “I will feel like complete and utter shit for doing so, but I will do it because I can’t go back, Regina. I don’t want to fight with you, I don’t want you being mad at me for doing the right thing and I would really like to know who the fuck Robin Hood is.”

Whoever he was, she knew damn well he hadn’t been a part of Storybrooke before the second curse and last she knew; Regina wasn’t some addle-brained teenager who fell head over heels for someone she met a week ago. “Snow said he saved you guys in the Enchanted Forest, but you didn’t seem to like him very much. How the hell did you go from not remembering the guy you didn’t like, to loving him?”

Regina stared at her for a solid five minutes, anger and confusion warring for control over her expression before she snapped. “I fail to see how any of that is your business, Miss Swan…”

“Oh fuck off,” Emma scowled, interrupting before the brunette could even attempt to dismiss her again. She was so tired of all the bullshit being thrown around, Regina’s especially. “You’ve been calling me Emma since Neverland, so don’t give me that shit and _seriously?_ You want to hate me for—” she made air quotes with her fingers before continuing. “ _Ruining your life_ ; then this is definitely my business.”

Dark eyes lit with the familiar warning of the beginning to one of their infamous fights and Emma met the challenge in them with one of her own. She stood her ground, jaw clenched tight enough that her teeth started to ache and Regina’s nostrils flared. Had anyone asked, she wouldn’t be able to say how long they spent staring each other down, but when the brunette released a growl and stormed off toward the kitchen, Emma followed after her.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, not that Emma had deluded herself into expecting anything to begin with. Truth be told, even with the threat of telling Henry should Regina use magic to get her out of her house, she didn’t think she would get as far as she had and rather than risk what had been accomplished so far, Emma simply watched quietly as Regina moved about the kitchen.

It dawned on her rather quickly that she had won their little moment in the foyer only because Regina was in the middle of cooking. She had no idea how she hadn’t noticed the aroma in the air; the one most children associated with grandparents who possessed an almost obsessive habit of baking cookies all the time.

The sigh that passed her lips sounded unusually loud and as focused as she was on Regina’s movements, she noticed the stiffening of her back instantly. When she made no other sound, the muscles slowly relaxed and Regina’s shoulders slumped visibly. It seemed, however, that the reminder of her presence opened up a line of communication and that was when Regina started to speak.

“While I was married to your—to Leopold, I met Tinkerbelle. It was during a… dark moment; the details aren’t important. We talked, mostly about what my life was like at the time and when I admitted that I wasn’t happy, she decided she wanted to help me.” Emma frowned, not understanding what Tinkerbelle had to do with Robin, but she refrained comment and waited for Regina to continue.

“She came up with the idea to steal some pixie dust, and said it would lead me to the person who would give me the happy ending I was looking for.” She gave a mirthless chuckle and shook her head. “I was sceptical, I’ve never been someone who trusted magic of any kind and—well long story short, she did as she said and the trail led me to a tavern where I first laid eyes on Robin Hood.”

“Wait, let me get this straight.” Regina frowned at the interruption and Emma stood from where she had sat at the counter, the sound of her boots filling the air as she paced. “Your entire life you’ve rallied against choices that were constantly taken from you. Your mother decided you couldn’t love someone simply because his station in life was too _low_ and then accepted a proposal—from a King who had to be at least three times your age—that overruled the need for your consent. _My_ mother stole your first chance at motherhood…”

Unwilling to hear any more of the blasé way in which Emma spouted her past as though reading the summary on the back of a book jacket, Regina huffed and interrupted. “I imagine you have a point to make somewhere amidst your cliff notes of my life; so do get on with it,” she snapped.

“Uh sorry, yeah.” Emma cleared her throat and stopped the incessant pacing. “It’s just—this is another choice being taken from you and you… you accepted it. You make all these comments about people always deciding things for you and thinking they know what’s best for you better than you do. How is this any different?”

“You don’t think I should be with my _soul mate_ , simply because magic erased the unnecessary years of trying to _find_ him?”

Emma blinked. “Soul mate?” she repeated and Regina nodded, the confusion she had been feeling from the start of their—whatever was happening between them—growing more prominent while the anger abated somewhat. “He isn’t your true love?”

The brunette’s frown deepened. “Daniel was my true love and Marian is Robin’s,” she replied. No matter what pixie dust said, she would never believe Robin Hood to be _that._ The only reason she accepted he could provide her with a happy ending was because Daniel was no longer alive, otherwise she would be with him and this blonde nuisance wouldn’t be irritating her with her… Charming-ness.

“Okay, lets uh—shelve the ‘how do you know’ discussion for the moment.” Emma sighed and returned to her seat. “Why does everyone think you’re in love with him? And if you’re not, why the hell am I being punished for _unintentionally_ hurting you? You don’t have to be in a relationship with the guy for him to make you happy; there’s this thing called friendship, it’s wildly popular in this world.”

Before Regina could respond, Emma kept talking. “I mean if being your soul mate means you have to be in love with him, then what happens if you find out your true love _isn’t_ who you thought it was. Was the Enchanted Forest big on polygamy or something? Not that I have anything—no actually, I do have something against that because how the hell can a single person be your “True Love” if you’re in love with a second? God I thought magic itself was complicated, but this is all kinds of fucked up.”

Regina winced as a head thudded against the island counter top and the blonde groaned as though pained. She was tempted to make a comment about the dangers of a thinking Charming, but realised Emma _did_ have a point, regardless of the crass way in which she presented it. So quick to accept someone who loved her, she hadn’t considered a soul mate could mean something else entirely.

What anger she had left in regards to the woman evaporated in favour of consideration. Obviously, there was something different between a true love and a soul mate; magic _was_ complicated but even it followed its own set of particular rules. The fact of the matter was, Marian wasn’t dead and Robin had a second chance—she thought she should be angry about that, but honestly, she was more upset with Emma for unknowingly hurting her than she was that her relationship with Robin had ended before she even had a chance.

“Oh,” she breathed as the realisation struck—she needed to sit down.

Settling on to a stool of her own, emotions played across her face as thoughts swirled around her head. She had allowed Robin to apologise, even going so far as to point out the fact he wasn’t the one who brought Marian back and even if he had, she would have understood why a relationship between them wouldn’t work. Marian was not only the mother of his son, but his true love and someone Regina had executed.

It was true, she _wasn’t_ inlove with Robin but that didn’t mean she hadn’t thought she could fall for him. He was kind, considerate and he had a sense of humour not too unlike Daniel’s—the fact he had a son was a bonus, as Regina _did_ love Roland and knew because of him, Robin was a capable parent who would understand her need to put her own son above all else.

Emma.

Emma was another matter entirely.

The avoidance hadn’t been one way. Regina had actively sought to keep as much distance between them over the last three days; not visiting the diner, ignoring phone calls from numbers she didn’t recognise in case the blonde managed to convince some unfortunate fool to lend her their phone. She didn’t miss a single opportunity to go another second without facing the woman she believed ruined her second chance.

“You okay?”

Regina blinked, emerging from her thoughts to find Emma staring with something akin to concern in her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and inclined her head. “It seems I may owe you an apology,” she murmured, frown creasing her brow.

“That isn’t why I came over here,” Emma dismissed. She wanted them to be friends, and while Regina probably did owe her an apology, she wasn’t there to throw blame around. “I want to bury the past, not relive it. I inadvertently hurt you, you said something’s that weren’t true; let’s just leave it at that.”

“Then why are you here?”

Emma sighed; knowing everything she said needed to be honest. Trust between them had always been shaky at best and it wouldn’t do either of them, or their friendship, any good if she started lying. “Before I fell through the portal, something was changing—we were changing. Whatever our relationship, it was no longer the hostile tug-of-war it was during those first few months. We acknowledged Henry as _our_ son and we… I don’t know; we were becoming friends. I want that, Regina and if I have to admit I missed you to _get_ that then—I did. I’m here because I miss your snarky, disapproving comments that make everyone else cringe away from you while I sit there laughing at them.”

A wry grin curled dark lips and Regina chuckled at the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks. “I suppose under current circumstances, I can admit that I too missed certain aspects of your personality; namely those which allow me to forget, briefly, there are Charming genes running through your veins.”

Emma laughed, shaking her head. Regina wouldn’t be Regina without the hidden insults. “I’m betting that even if you only miss that whole ten percent of me, it’s more than anyone else; so I’ll take it,” she said, grinning as the brunette nodded her agreement.

 

* * *

**Two Months Later**

Shuffling about the kitchen, Emma readied herself a small breakfast consisting of eggs on toast as the intoxicating aroma of rich coffee permeated the air, and tried to remember the purpose of a meeting she was to attend at nine. She recalled someone mentioning a festival of sorts—likely her mother, as the recollection included an overabundance of excitement that shouldn’t even be possible for a grown woman to feel.

At least she knew now, after three decades, where she inherited her sometimes-childlike demeanour.

The thought caused a grin to spread and she sauntered over to the dining table, a steaming mug in one hand and plate of breakfast in the other. As she took a seat, she tilted her head as her phone rang for the second time that morning and she considered ignoring it again, but as soon as it stopped, it started a third time and with a roll of her eyes, she held out her hand.

Glancing at the display as the device appeared in her palm; she smirked to herself and took a bite of her toast before hitting the answer button with a mumbled, “What?”

“Really, Miss Swan; your manners are as atrocious as ever,” came the exact scolding drawl Emma was hoping for.

Swallowing with the help of a generous mouthful of coffee, she chuckled. “I would have answered the first time, but in light of the fact I was naked and hopping into the shower—while I’m eating is the preferable choice, no?”

“Yes well…” The faint clearing of a throat sounded from the other side, those two small, husked words a dead giveaway to what Regina thought of that particular image—not that the proud Mayor would ever admit to such, evident in the way she continued with more control in her voice. “As we have an early meeting, I wanted to make sure you weren’t planning to sleep through this one.”

Emma hummed, amusement lacing her tone. “I considered it,” she admitted, “but then I remembered how much you missed my company last time; decided I’d be nice and come along, just in case you get bored and decide to set someone on fire.”

“Oh?” Regina questioned teasingly, “If that is the case, will you stop me? Be the Savior you’ve proven oh so capable of being?”

“Hell no,” she laughed, the sound a little more forced as she still wasn’t used to people referring to her as such. “I just thought it sounded more entertaining than bedsores. I mean, it’s been a while since David recovered from his impromptu hairstyling.”

“Only you would encourage me to set fire to your father’s hair, Miss Swan.” Emma could picture Regina’s smile and the eye roll that no doubt accompanied it, the expression more than familiar when it came to their particular friendship, knowing that Regina thought she was both amusing and exasperating at the same time, most of the time.

After a small but comfortable silence, Emma glanced down at her plate and saw she’d finished her breakfast at some point. She also noted, with a mildly annoyed frown, that her coffee mug was empty and sighed. “Well Madam Mayor,” she began, “it seems I am in need of a refill so; rest assured, you’ll receive my special brand of annoyance later today, but for now I need more coffee and you probably have… mayoral things that need doing.”

“Actually, no.” There’s a soft chuckle on the line that made Emma smile before Regina elaborated, “I fear I may already be bored, but I’m sure once you’ve irritated me with your presence; I’ll yearn for these past two hours and all their dullness.”

“And the real reason comes out for why you called; you missed me annoying you,” Emma gloated, grinning as it garnered an audible huff in her ear.

“Go to hell, Miss Swan,” was the last thing she heard before the dial tone and laughter filled her home as she wandered back to the kitchen, an obvious bounce in her step.

 

* * *

 

“No?”

Emma stared down at the dwarf from on stage, arms folded across her chest. “No,” she repeated her decision firmly, ignoring the looks she received from everyone else while she fixed the man with a glare. “It is a festival that everyone will likely be attending and I am _not_ going to spend all damn night babysitting grown men and women who should know better than to drink around children.”

“Give us a break, sister,” Grumpy growled, “We don’t all have kids—hell, make the festival for us and have someone else deal with the brats.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised the town drunk misses the point that our Sheriff is attempting to make,” Regina interrupted, as it became apparent Emma was only growing angrier with each passing minute she was stuck in an argument with the idiot.

“Aside from public intoxication being against the law—something which you are all too familiar with considering you constantly find yourself waking up in a jail cell—it is also not within the Sheriff’s job description to play caregiver to you, or anyone else. Children are not the problem with your idea; it would simply be irresponsible to allow alcohol consumption, in public, during a celebration meant for the entire town.”

“Whatever,” he muttered angrily.

Emma shot the brunette a grateful smile as Leroy slumped into his seat. She had been trying to get through to him for ten minutes now, but his persistent ignorance had her on the verge of madness and no one seemed to want to agree with her. Being a part of the lame festival marking the breaking of the first curse, as Sheriff, was out of her hands but she wasn’t about to let anyone make her job even more unbearable than it already would be by approving such an asinine idea.

Who, in their right mind, would encourage an entire town to drink themselves into a stupor? Granted, her reasoning had centred on the kids, but even if she bothered to consider his suggestion of a childfree night, there was still the fact disaster remained a constant in all of their lives, the pause to breath in between always seeming shorter with each new problem that arose.

Knowing her luck, the minute anyone worth a damn in a fight was incapacitated, some form of ‘evil’ or another would appear in Storybrooke to end their existence and she’d be the only one left standing to defend them. Sure it sounded amusing in theory, but in reality she’d most likely surrender, drawn to the temptation of the dark side where she could get back at the morons who thought public drunkenness and neglecting their responsibilities was a super grand suggestion.

“Emma?”

Her name pulled her from her musings and she blinked, the fog dissipating from her mind and eyes regaining their focus as she turned her head to the side. Regina was leaning towards her with a look of concern that she found disconcerting—the expression still unusual to her—and she looked around to escape the worry that shined within the chocolate orbs, only to find that the brunette wasn’t the only one staring at her.

Embarrassed by the attention, she cleared her throat and glanced to her parents, having recognised her mother’s voice even though she hadn’t a clue what the woman had said since disappearing into her thoughts. “I uh… spaced out,” she said by way of apology and shrugged. “Did I miss a question or something?”

A moment passed, in which the intense stares remained, but Snow eventually pushed aside what she considered her motherly duty to meddle and smiled warmly. “We were wondering if you needed another person for security. It is a big event, and though you and Red are generally enough law enforcement for the town, we were thinking it might be best if you two had extra help?”

Forgoing a reply, Emma sought one woman in particular and found her sitting in the second row with upturned lips and a knowing look. “Hey Mulan, wanna play deputy for the night?” The warrior inclined her head as a few people chuckled and Emma turned back to her mother as she said, “Done.”

To those who didn’t know, she had found a solution to a tiny problem and acknowledged her mother’s concern by temporarily hiring the woman. To the few who were aware of the current disagreement between mother and daughter, the blonde had just stolen a prime opportunity to be stuck conversing with a certain pirate against her will. Despite Emma’s best efforts to discourage her, Snow White insisted she made a mistake when Emma ended things with Killian. It was barely a week after their return from the past that she realised a relationship with him would be impossible, but due to the fact she never provided anyone with a reason, there were still a few people who believed her happiness lay with the pirate and her mother had been the loudest of the lot.

People were free to wonder, Emma having grown accustomed to the workings of the small, close-knit town. She no longer bothered with trying to keep people out of her business and even encouraged it sometimes, entertained by some of the more bizarre rumours that cropped up from time to time. While unappealing to her personally, overhearing the townsfolk gossip had become a regular and—dare she say—normal part of her life that it would almost seem strange should she wake up one day to find that everyone suddenly stopped spreading it around.

Once the matter of the upcoming festival had been settled, Regina brought the meeting to a close and Emma remained seated as everyone else drifted from the hall. She felt her mother’s stare boring in to the side of her head, but otherwise ignored her as she promised David she would be by the station that afternoon to relieve him before the two left.

“Where’s Henry?” she asked as Regina sat down beside her.

“He convinced me to let him stay home by himself,” she replied with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “He assured me he wouldn’t have time to trash the house.”

Emma snorted. “Nah,” she said. “He’d need at least three hours considering you live in a freakin’ mansion.”

Regina grinned and the two were silent for a time. She really should be getting back to work, but they hadn’t seen each other for a few days now and she knew Emma wouldn’t be going to the station once she left. “Early lunch?” she suggested suddenly, smiling when Emma chuckled and stood.

“Sure, why not.”

 

* * *

 

The two weeks before the day of the festival flew by and Emma wandered through the stalls, listening to the murmurs of conversation and the occasional argument between a child and their parent. She smiled as she imagined one of them to be Henry, trying to convince his brunette mother there was no such thing as too much sugar when even Emma was hesitant to touch some of the food she passed.

In spite of their attempt to keep alcohol from being introduced into the celebration, she found Leroy and a few others an hour earlier imbibing, though she resisted the desire to ban them all from the festivities as they appeared relatively sober, and settled for confiscating their drinks instead. The decision received a few glares, but she hadn’t come across another incident since.

Her eyes never stopped searching for the brunette and their son, though she knew the two wouldn’t arrive until later because even on a day where no one had to work; Regina was the exception. Emma stopped to talk with people here and there, mostly it was someone thanking her or asking her about her day—to which she’d respond with one ridiculous quip or another—but for the most part she was left alone to do her duty in peace.

It was around 7:30 when she first spotted the Mayor across the other side of the park, a smile on her face as she stared down at their son who appeared to be rambling. Emma knew the look intimately, as it was the one Regina wore whenever she asked the Sheriff a question she expected a simple answer to and received anything but; distracted, but indulgent.

“Emma!”

Emma winced at the shriek, inwardly groaning as she turned to face her mother. “Snow,” she said. “Something wrong?”

Snow shook her head, a too wide a smile on her lips that warned Emma she wouldn’t like what was about to happen. “I spoke to Killian a few moments ago, he was looking for you,” she said and Emma rolled her eyes.

“For the last time, mother; I’m not interested.” Snow looked as though she were about the protest but as her mouth opened, it snapped shut again and Emma spun on her heel, a grin lighting up her face when she found Regina and Henry were standing behind her.

“Good evening, Sheriff.” Dark eyes drifted to her mother, mouth quirking in a half-smile as the brunette added, “Snow.” The relationship between the women no longer contained the hostility from the past, but they still had a long way to go before either of them considered one another friends. Emma got a kick out of the fact the Savior, supposed nemesis of the Evil Queen, was one of few Regina _did_ consider a friend—Archie, Kathryn and Robin being the only others she could think of.

“Perhaps you could talk some sense into her,” Snow said suddenly. Emma growled under her breath and turned to yell at her, but the hand in the middle of her back stopped her short.

“And what might our dear Sheriff need talking sense into, Snow?” Emma pursed her lips, sensing the hidden threat within and knowing her mother had missed it completely when she immediately launched into an explanation about Killian being in love with Emma and her not giving him a chance. It was all so old to Emma that she tuned most of it out.

“While I’m sure your intentions are… good, Snow; pressuring your daughter into a relationship she has no interest in seems rather counterproductive when you’re claiming to only want her happiness.” Before Snow could jump in and justify herself, Regina raised a hand and continued, “Perhaps there is someone else Emma is interested in, or perhaps she is happy being on her own surrounded by friends and family who provide her all the love she desires. There are many paths to happiness, Snow and I’m sure you would agree that it is up to each of us to find our own.”

Snow nodded, eyes lowered to the ground and Emma breathed a soft sigh of relief. She had started to think nothing short of a fake relationship with someone else would deter her mother’s constant meddling, she was grateful for Regina for proving that wasn’t the case—at least she hoped that’s what Snow’s nod meant.

After that horror of a love triangle in Neverland, the thought of a relationship with anyone wasn’t all that appealing and she _was_ happy with just her family and friends. Whether or not that would change had yet to be decided as the one person who held any interest for her at all was so far beyond her reach that if she thought about even the possibility, she’d be overcome with the strongest urge to find the nearest cliff and throw herself over it.

“Does the thought of dating the pirate traumatise you so much you become deaf, or was ignoring your mother a tactic to get her to leave?”

The amused drawl pulled Emma from her thoughts and her head swivelled around to find that her mother had indeed left. “Uh,” she grunted, distracted from answering as Henry laughed and reminded her that she had yet to acknowledge him. “Oh hey kid.”

 “Don’t worry, Ma; I know everyone is invisible to you when Mom appears,” he said and laughed again as her eyes widened. Glancing to the brunette, he raised an eyebrow and sing-songed, “I told you.”

Regina, seeing that Emma was monumentally embarrassed, swatted their son and extended her arm, pointing to the other side of the park where Grace and Nicholas were walking towards them. “Ah man, bye Moms!” Both women leaned in, receiving their customary farewell kiss to the cheek before he dashed off to spend time with his friends.

Looking over the blonde, Regina smiled to herself as she noted the faint blush still colouring her cheeks before she put her out of her misery. “Had any trouble?”

Shaking her head, Emma side-glanced the brunette and replied, “Leroy apparently doesn’t know the meaning of the word no and tried to sneak beer in, but I confiscated it all and locked it in the cruiser—aside from that, the extra security seems to have been pointless.”

“With the lost boys finally settling down, I’m not surprised.” Ignoring her desire to leave it there where it felt as though it belonged, Regina removed her hand from Emma’s back and offered a sympathetic smile as she said, “Of course, we both know that wasn’t why Snow suggested it.”

Emma sighed. “Why she thinks I need a man in my life to make me happy is beyond me,” she mumbled. “Never crossed her mind that I might _like_ being alone.”

“Do you?” Regina questioned, tone curious as she tilted her head.

“No,” Emma admitted, “but that’s beside the point. I don’t want Killian and if he turns out to be my only option; I’d rather be alone.”

“Well,” came the voice from behind them, “that was rather painful.”

Head bowed, Emma squeezed her eyes shut and her shoulders slumped as she muttered, “Shit.”

“Sometimes brutal honesty is the only way to get through to people,” Regina reasoned and Emma cracked an eye open as she turned her head to look at her. The brunette grinned. “For others, flowers are a nice gesture,” she added and Emma sighed.

She was hoping the brunette hadn’t been paying attention to their son.

 

* * *

 

Emma lined up her shot, closing one eye and measuring the distance between her hand and the trashcan by the door. Launching the paper ball through the air, she smirked when it reached its target, landing with a dull thud at the bottom of the bin. God damn was she bored out of her mind, or what.

The festival was over, her mother hadn’t annoyed her since and Henry had another three days with his brunette mother before her week started. The lack of something more entertaining to do meant that she had—for once in the three-or-so years she’d been Sheriff—actually managed to complete her paperwork. Regina would no doubt be pleased, which she supposed was a bonus, but oh god the boredom.

Leaning back in her chair, she threw her head back and stared up at the clock, and promptly released a loud, entirely obnoxious groan. She had two more hours before she could even consider leaving the station, thoughts of being home, gorging on junk food while sat in a mindless trance, playing videogames and being _not_ bored filling her head.

The phone on her desk rang and she jerked forward, stared at it for the first three rings before she realised she should probably answer it before the person calling her figured she wasn’t there and hung up. As soon as she held the receiver against her ear, she blurted, “Please be dying.”

“Either our relationship has taken a drastic change over the course of the past two days without my knowledge,” came the amused drawl. “Or your sense of humour is even more atrocious—which I didn’t think was possible, to be honest. Congratulations.”

Emma laughed and slumped into her chair. “I police the _dullest_ town in existence. You’re Mayor of Snoresville, I hope you know that.”

“In the Enchanted Forest, there were these little imps that wreaked havoc wherever they went; sneaky little buggers were resistant to magi—”

Confused, Emma interrupted, “What are you talking about?”

Regina chuckled. “I was wondering what to get you for your birthday and since you’re so bored while _working_ , well…”

“That would be so uncool; I’d be forced to hate you.” After a moment, Emma realised the first part of the sentence was and said, “Wait, you're thinking about buying me a birthday present?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Regina replied, which of course confused the blonde even more.

“But you just s—”

“I know what I said, but since I’ve already bought your present, thinking about it would be a waste of time.”

Emma wasn’t sure how to respond, she wasn’t even sure she remembered how to use words and though she couldn’t see the brunette, she was at least 99.999% certain Regina was smirking and revelling in the fact she’d made her speechless—which she did quite often, so Emma didn’t really understand why she wasn’t tired of it by now.

"You know," Emma started, her voice a little higher than it had any right to be. "I've been hearing people around town claiming they like this new you, gushing over how much you've changed and I gotta say; I'm just not feeling it."

Regina scoffed. "You'll be feeling something in a minute, Sheriff."

"Ooh," Emma cooed, laughing as she questioned, "Are you flirting with me, Madam Mayor?"

"Believe me, dear, if I were flirting with you; you wouldn't need to ask, " Regina purred, sending tingles down the blonde's spine before the dial tone sounded in her ears.

Emma frowned and dropped the phone back into its cradle, glaring at it as though it had personally offended her. Regina had started doing that a lot lately; teasing her before she suddenly hung up. It was annoying and it always left her pouting, and wondering, but mostly pouting.

"Women," she muttered, side-eyeing the clock and releasing another tortured moan as her head thumped against her desk. One hour and forty minutes to go.

 

* * *

 

Regina was in her office, going over the latest reports for the budget meeting when there came a knock at her door. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with a murmured, 'Come in," and watched as Emma Swan strolled into the room wearing the jacket she'd given her the day before.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed the Sheriff's badge proudly displayed at the blonde's hip and narrowed her eyes. "Miss Swan," she said, appraising just how well Emma wore black leather with an appreciative look. "I realise your desire to disobey me at every turn is your sole purpose for living, however, I would have thought you'd enjoy the week off I gave you."

"Oh I do," Emma replied, grinning and dropping the takeout bag in her hand on the desk before falling into the chair in front of the brunette. "I'm utilizing the advantages of being Sheriff while completely ignoring my responsibilities. It's great, everyone assumes I'm working and _no one_ bothers me with anything less than life-threatening."

Regina tilted her head. It wasn't even close to the response she was expecting and, after a moment of consideration, it also seemed a very unEmma-like thing to do. She smirked. "That sounds rather illegal, Sheriff."

"I couldn't decide if I was impersonating a police officer while actually _being_ a police officer," Emma mused, grinning all the while. " _Or_ if I was embodying the typical persona of a lazy, small town Sheriff by pretending to be a police officer, while a police officer and ignoring my responsibilities."

Leaning forward to peer inside the takeout bag, Regina shook her head with a smile. "I never thought I would live to see the day where I would accuse you of thinking too much," she said, retrieving the container of grilled chicken from within. "Thank you for bringing me lunch."

It was hardly the first time since they buried the hatchet a little over four months ago, and Emma shrugged, knowing it wouldn't be the last as she replied, "You're welcome."

Another knock sounded through the room as Regina sat back, food in hand. She had the thought to simply ignore it before Emma stood and she frowned, curious but ultimately disinterested enough not to stop the blonde as she moved to open the door. Emma murmured something to the person on the other side and when she turned, closing the door with a bump of her hip, she held up two styrofoam cups with a grin.

Met with the familiar raised eyebrow, Emma responded to the silent question. "Red was wrestling with the coffee machine when I visited the diner," she said. "She offered to bring these when she was done fixing it."

Regina nodded, satisfied with the explanation and quietly pleased by the gesture. Emma, as it turned out, could be overwhelmingly thoughtful and the random—but highly appreciated—lunches were only one of the instances of which Regina was reminded of that simple fact. It surprised her, not only that she benefitted from the blonde's inherently _good_ nature, but that she enjoyed the time the two of them spent together; kind gestures or otherwise.

She often wondered if anyone else in Storybrooke could claim to know this side of the blonde, if Emma shared this same kind of friendship with anyone else. It felt wrong to think about it, to think that anyone—herself included—could be trusted enough to appreciate the woman Emma Swan was beneath the bravado that came with the titles thrust upon her.

Whenever she heard another utter the blonde's name, it was always in combination with the Princess, or the Saviour and to a lesser extent, the Sheriff. Emma was never simply Emma for Emma's sake and as time wore on, Regina began to realise that it actually bothered her. Emma was intelligent, funny and, although no where near the same degree as her mother—thank the Gods— _nice_. Yet people only seemed to appreciate her for _what_ she was, and not _who_ she was.

"Hey…"

Regina blinked, realising she had become lost within her thoughts as she stared at the blonde's face. "Apologies," she offered, feeling her cheeks warm. "I didn't mean—"

Emma held up a hand and shook her head, smiling as she reassured the brunette. "You don't need to explain. I just thought maybe I should get going and leaving without—you know, _telling_ you seemed kind of rude."

Seeing that prime opportunity laid out in front of her so willing to be snapped up, Regina smirked. "You, who barged your way into my home demanding I talk to you without an invitation all those months ago, is concerned for being rude?" she teased. "Perish the thought."

"Yeah, yeah," Emma chuckled, standing and shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. "I'll see you later."

Regina smiled and nodded, biting her lip as the blonde turned. She waited, wondering if she would try to talk herself out of it but as Emma opened the door, she released a breath. "Emma," she called and the blonde glanced over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

Silence, brief but comfortable, and then—"Would you like to join me at home for dinner tomorrow night?"

"I…" Emma paused, slowly turning on the spot, expression surprised but…happy. Regina arched an eyebrow, patient and Emma cleared her throat. "I'd love to."

Lifting her coffee from the desk, Regina grinned. "7 o'clock, dear; do at least try not to be late."

"Me? Late?" Emma mock-gasped, hand to her chest. "Never."

Rolling her eyes, Regina chuckled and shooed the blonde from her office. Emma turned, throwing a wink over her shoulder, her laughter filtering through the now closed door as olive cheeks heated once more and Regina wondered what she was getting herself into.

 

* * *

 

"Oh good, you're home!" Snow beamed as she entered the house. "Your father and I were wondering if you wouldn't mind looking after Neal for the night. I know its short notice, but Red offered to take tonight's shift at the station and we were kind of hoping to spend some time together."

On any other night, Emma would happily take the chance to spend time with her brother alone. That night, however, she winced. "Sorry Mom," she said, doing her best to offer an apologetic smile. "I already have plans."

"Henry?" Snow glanced around in search of her grandson before her eyes settled back on her daughter, taking in the outfit she was wearing before a grin lit up her features and she questioned, "Do you have a date? Did you and Killian finally make up?"

"Ugh, seriously?" Emma sighed, running a hand through her hair before she remembered not to do that. She frowned and made a note to fix it as she reached for the beer she'd left on the counter when she went to shower. "No, Killian and I did not make up."

When Snow didn't respond, Emma turned around and at seeing the pitying look she was being given, she rolled her eyes. "I'm having dinner with Regina," she added, taking a sip of her beer as she watched the shock and another, decidedly ugly emotion play across her mother's face.

They still had their differences, but Emma knew her mother harboured some strong, rather delusional hope that she and Regina would one day become the best of friends. It was mean, she admitted to herself. Emma had been on the receiving end of one of her mother's drunken ramblings not long after Neal was born.

Despite the expectations she tried to live up to of being a fair, kind and compassionate Queen; Snow White was just as human as the people who surrounded her and it was jealousy that she wore, faint in its appearance but all too familiar to Emma who had seen it countless times since that night when she drunkenly confessed her envy of their friendship.

Emma sighed, a sliver of guilt in her chest as the silence between them dragged on. It was all so childish. "Look, I know you want what's best for me and that's great," she eventually said. "But Killian isn't it and if I had to choose between him and being alone for the rest of my life…"

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I want Killian and I to be friends and maybe when he realises I wasn't _trying_ to break his heart, we will but I want nothing more from him and you constantly encouraging his advances isn't helping either of us. So here's the deal…"

Snow lifted her gaze from where it rested on the floor, curious and Emma shook her head, bemused as she offered, "You stop insisting Killian is my true love or whatever it is you're doing, and I'll talk to Regina for you."

"You'd do that?" Snow asked, eyes wide.

Emma could see the excitement she heard in her voice and she laughed, nodding as she replied, "Yeah but I can't promise anything. Regina is—Regina is complicated and she's different… _good_ different but different. I don't know that she wants more… friends, but I guess it might be nice if she knows there are people out there who _want_ that from her. So yes, for the three of us to maybe be a little happier, I'll do it."

"Okay," Snow whispered, biting her lip.

"Okay?" Emma repeated, placing her half-finished beer back on the counter with a glance at the clock. "No more Killian nonsense?"

Snow nodded. "No more Killian nonsense," she echoed, smiling faintly when Emma gave her a thumbs up and disappeared into the bathroom.

Reappearing shortly after, hair fixed and a grin on her face, Emma snatched her car keys from the bowl by the front door. "I gotta go before I'm late, but tell Dad I'll take his shift on Sunday and you two can go on a date or something."

Snow walked with her to the bug and Emma slipped inside, pulling the door closed before she paused. Winding down the window, Snow raised an eyebrow and Emma added, "Don't tell Regina, she'll think I don't appreciate her giving me the week off and probably make up for it with extra paperwork; no one wants that."

Emma grimaced, nose scrunched at the thought and Snow laughed, shaking her head as she replied, "Noted… have fun."

With a mock salute, Emma pulled from the curb and scoffed. "Have fun," she mimicked, smirking as she remembered the last time she had dinner with Regina.

Fun didn’t even begin to cover it.

 

* * *

 

"Mooom!"

Regina startled, jolted from her thoughts at the sound of her son's voice and she quickly scrambled from the stool where she had sat for the last thirty minutes, his words from earlier running through her mind. She strolled from the kitchen and stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up to where Henry draped himself over the second floor railing.

"Did you change your mind?" she asked, the question so pitifully hopeful that her son had the _audacity_ to laugh while shaking his head. She muttered a word too impolite to repeat before questioning, "Then why did you call?"

He smirked. "Door," he said, and darted out of sight. She repeated that too impolite word and turned, heels clicking as she made her way towards the foyer.

Pulling open the door, her breath caught in her throat and she stared, speechless. There Emma stood, wearing a red, knee-length dress, the black leather jacket she gifted the blonde worn over the top… unzipped.

A full minute passed before Regina remembered to breath and she blinked. "Emma," she croaked, and then blinked again.

Pale lips quirked with a grin. "To think, I wasn't even _trying_ to seduce you this time," Emma teased.

"Is this a date?" Regina blurted, eyes wide as she clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to ask that. She had a nice, snarky retort on the tip of her tongue, but then she gave in to temptation to look down where a rather ample view of cleavage resided and she lost it.

_Damn it, Henry._

The grin only grew wider as Emma unhelpfully supplied, "It is whatever you want it to be, Regina—that is assuming you plan on letting me in sometime before we starve to death."

Somewhat appeased by her response, Regina snorted and stepped back as she replied, "I was at the diner when you were ordering lunch, dear; I highly doubt you'll starve any time soon."

"I was afraid it might take that long for you to pick your jaw up off the floor," Emma stated, expression serious despite the amused twinkle in her eye. "It's almost winter, Regina. Not only would I starve, I could have frozen to death all so you could ogle me."

"I was not og—" A throat cleared and Regina's mouth snapped shut as she turned to see Henry grinning at the two of them.

"As fun as this is," he drawled, voice sounding the perfect combination of his mothers with Regina's sarcastic exasperation and Emma's eternal amusement as he gestured between them. "You're both in the way of the door."

Emma bit her lip, stifling her laughter as she moved passed him and Regina huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "I demand you stay," she said, eyes narrowed in challenge.

Henry smiled and stepped up to her, embracing her as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Sorry, Mom; but you don't invite your teenage kid on a date," he said, laughing as he dodged her swat to the back of his head and slipped around her, tugging open the door with a, "bye," thrown over his shoulder before the door slammed.

Just the two of them, Regina swallowed.

"I didn't think it was a date," Emma offered after a beat of silence, smiling when their eyes met.

An eyebrow rose, disbelieving as Regina accused, "You dressed up."

"You're _always_ dressed up, I thought you'd appreciate it," Emma defended with a roll of her eyes. "I'll wear my pyjamas next time."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Regina scoffed dismissively.

Emma chuckled. "I don't think I am."

"And I've seen your pyjamas, which are even less appropriate than…" Her gaze dropped again of its own accord and she cleared her throat, cheeks colouring as she gestured and finished lamely, "…those."

"Did you just call my breasts inappropriate?" Emma feigned hurt, pouting as she said, "That's just rude."

Regina released a tortured groan, as though pained by the blonde's sense of humour. "Why would anyone think we were dating? You're a child—an indecently dressed child."

She huffed, emerald eyes lighting with unabashed amusement, frustrated as she questioned, " _Why_ are you dressed like that? I didn't even think you owned a dress."

Emma shrugged. "I thought it looked good with the jacket, and don't pretend you don't like it. You've checked out my cleavage three times by my count, and blushed—not to mention that little husky thing your voice does when you're…"

The stare became a glare and Emma trailed off with a grin. "Never mind," she sing-songed and pivoted on her heel. Regina's eyes swiftly glued themselves to the blonde's backside and she noted an unnecessarily pronounced sway in the hips as Emma sauntered to the kitchen.

Stood there minutes later, she realised her mind had wandered and rolled her eyes at herself. Heading for the kitchen, she couldn't help wondering what would happen if she _did_ decide they were on a date. Would it be all that different from previous dinners they've shared? Would Emma kiss her at the end of the night? If they made it to the third date, would they sleep together?

That thought made her pause. It wasn't as though she'd never thought about it. Emma Swan was a very attractive woman, one would have to be blind not to see that. But then, what if it didn't work out? What if they slept together and then it was awkward between them? She didn't want to risk their friendship, not after everything they'd been through to get where they were.

She sighed and forced herself to keep moving, tension rising as her mind continued to assault her with questions that wouldn't have been given even a _passing_ thought, had Henry not made the ridiculous comment that without him, their dinner might seem like a date.

He had a point, certainly, but that hadn't been her intention when she asked. She had simply wanted to do something for Emma that would say, "I'm not completely appalled to call you a friend." It seemed reasonable at the time. Emma liked food and _she_ liked to cook, ergo dinner made perfect sense.

"This is really messing with you, isn't it?"

Her head snapped up and she frowned upon noticing she had stopped again without realising it, and now Emma was looking at her with an unreadable expression from the doorway to the kitchen. She averted her gaze, a whisper of guilt piercing her chest as it occurred to her that she was ruining the night by overthinking it all. Emma didn't seem to mind, regardless of whether they were on a date or not and while that definitely needed discussing at some point, there was no reason that it had to be now, or even in the near future.

Emma sighed, pushing from the frame and moving closer. "Do you want me to leave?"

Regina paled, immediately shaking her head. "Absolutely not," she snapped—a little too forcefully—and Emma stared silently, eyes wide in surprise. "I don't wish to… disrupt our friendship by complicating it, but that doesn't mean I don't wish to spend time with you. I invited you here for a reason, and that reason still stands regardless of what exactly it is we are doing."

The grin reappeared and Emma opened her mouth. Knowing her and seeing the question clear as day in her head, Regina made a sound in the back of her throat and said, "I'm not telling you why I invited you here," as she strode passed Emma into the kitchen.

"Aww, come on!"

 

* * *

 

Dinner was mostly quiet, but unsurprisingly comfortable. Unsurprising to Emma, at least. Regina had looked as though she were attempting to reconcile something throughout most of it. Whatever it was, Emma decided she wasn't going to pry and simply enjoyed the meal. Regina was a spectacular cook, Emma would go so far as to say Regina was the best she'd ever had.

Of course, that thought lead her mind down semi-unchartered territory in which she wondered how good Regina might be in regards to other areas they had the potential to explore. Needless to say, those thoughts made her blush bright red and Regina noticed if her smirk was any indication. That didn't surprise her either. Regina noticed _everything_ when it came to her; a fact Emma was still trying to decide whether or not it amused her more than it bothered her.

Meeting the gaze Regina had levelled her with throughout most of the night, Emma shivered slightly. It wasn't the first time she'd seen the look, but it was the first she had caught it that Regina didn't immediately attempt to hide it. Instead, her smirk widened and Regina tilted her head as though in thought before she spoke.

"I've decided this is a date," she said.

Eyebrow raised, Emma grinned. "Not that I'm complaining, but I think most people _talk_ during their dates," she replied.

Regina shrugged, somehow managing to make the action look almost regal. "We are talking," she retorted. "And I feel I should point out that _we_ are not _most people_."

Emma snorted before she agreed, "No, we definitely are not. I assume you didn't decide this because you've had too much to drink…" It hadn't escaped her notice that the wine Regina brought out with dinner was mostly gone, and she was only on her second glass compared to Regina's fourth.

"You've more than sampled my cider, dear," Regina answered and Emma blushed again because well— _yeah_. The woman's cider was ridiculously strong, which was why she never failed to accept when Regina offered it to her—and she had offered Emma _a lot_ of cider over the months.

It would require more than a single bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to get Regina Mills drunk, she conceded silently. "Point taken," she said, lower lip disappearing into her mouth as she considered the question on her mind.

After another minute, she lowered her wine glass to the table and leaned back in her chair. Regina continued to watch her, playing with the stem of her own glass and Emma knew she wanted an answer, a green-light as it were to step over the line representing their friendship and move into something more. Emma wanted it, wanted Regina more than she'd ever wanted anyone but if there was even the smallest chance that Regina might regret asking in the morning, she couldn't take it.

But, she had already told the brunette that the night could be whatever she wanted it to be and if she went back on that, she was fairly confident the night wouldn't end too well for either of them. So she nodded and stood, retrieving both of their glasses as she stated, "Alright, but if this is a date then we are going to stop drinking."

Regina frowned as she rose from her seat, gathering their plates and following the blonde into the kitchen. "Why?"

"Because if we continue drinking, we _will_ eventually end up drunk and I don't want there to be any… misunderstanding about us." Emma rinsed both glasses and up-turned them in the sink before she stepped aside, leaning against the island in the centre of the kitchen as she added, "If we're going to date, then we're going to do it properly and neither of us are all that _proper_ when we're drunk."

Regina huffed, though she didn't deny the statement. Emma had seen her drunk often enough that she knew the moment one of them went over the limit, there would be no turning back, and the last thing she wanted either of them to wake up with tomorrow morning was regret.

"Alright," she agreed, taking a step forward. "But I must insist to a slight alteration of what constitutes _proper_ dating."

"Oh?" Emma cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms as she leaned forward. "And what alteration might that be, Madam Mayor?"

Regina grinned and forced her to straighten as she brought their bodies together. Emma's arms dropped to her sides as Regina wound her own about her neck and lowered her voice. "I would very much like my kiss now, Sheriff," she purred with a dark little chuckle as Emma shuddered against her.

Hands slid up over her hips to settle in the small of her back, bodies pressed more firmly together as Emma leaned in. "So take it," she husked, the words tickling the lobe of Regina's ear before she pulled back and did just that.


End file.
